CHAPTER IX.
CHOPINʼS STAY IN BRESLAU, DRESDEN, PRAGUE, AND VIENNA.
T Kaliz, where Frederic met his friend and travelling companion, Titus Woyciechowski, he was the guest of the physician, Dr. Kelbich. That most agreeable man requested him to give a concert in the little town, but the young artist declined, not being satisfied with the orchestra.
At the present day, a famous pianoforte virtuoso like Chopin would not concern himself about the orchestra, but unhesitatingly perform the longest programme, without the assistance of any other artists. Then, however, pianists rarely played less than two pieces with orchestral accompaniment; they engaged the co-operation of other musicians, partly from a respect for art, partly for the sake of offering the public more variety.
Chopin declared that it was impossible to play the whole evening, and as soon as Woyciechowski arrived, he bade a grateful farewell to his hospitable host and pursued his journey. The friends stopped at Breslau, from whence Chopin wrote as follows:—
Breslau, November, 9th, 1830.
My beloved Parents and Sisters,
We arrived here very comfortably on Saturday evening, at six, in bright pleasant autumn weather. We put up at the Hotel “Zur Goldenen Gans,” and, as soon as we had dressed and taken some refreshment, we went to the theatre, where Raimundʼs “Alpine King” was being performed. You will see the piece some day. The public admired the scenery more than we did. I thought the acting pretty good. The day before yesterday “Maurer and Schlosser” was given, but not in first-rate style. To-day I shall hear the “Interrupted Sacrifice;” I am quite curious to see how it will turn out. There is a want of good singers here, but then the theatre is very cheap; a place in the pit only costs two Polish gulden.[72]
MUSIC AT BRESLAU. Breslau pleases me much better this time than last. I have delivered Sowinskiʼs letter, but have scarcely seen him yet, for we were unfortunately out when he called. We had first gone to the Ressource, where, by invitation of the conductor, Schnabel, I was present at the rehearsal for the concert in the evening. There are three concerts a week.
As is often the case at rehearsals, there was a very poor orchestra; a certain Referendar Hellwig was going to perform Moschelesʼ E flat major Concerto. Before this gentleman sat down, Schnabel, who had not heard me for four years, asked me to try the piano. I could not refuse this request, and played some Variations. Schnabel overwhelmed me with expressions of praise and pleasure. This made Hellwig feel a little uneasy, and I was pressed to take his place in the evening. Schnabel threw his influence into the scale, and asked me so heartily, that I could not deny the dear old man his wish. He is a great friend of Herr Elsnerʼs, which means much to me; but I told Schnabel at once that I only played for his sake, that for weeks I had not touched an instrument, and that it was not part of my programme to play in Breslau. Schnabel replied, that he was well aware of that, but that when he saw me in church, yesterday, he wished to ask me, but did not venture to do so. What could I do? So I went back to the hotel with his son to fetch my music, and played the Romance and Rondo from the second Concerto.
The Germans admired my playing at the rehearsal. “What a light touch he has,” I heard them whisper; but about the composition I did not catch a syllable. Titus, whose ears are everywhere, and who is always active on my behalf, heard one gentleman say, “there is no doubt that this young man can play, but he cannot compose.”
Yesterday, at the table dʼhôte, I made the acquaintance of a very amiable-looking gentleman, who was sitting opposite me. In the course of conversation I discovered that his name was Scharff, that he knew Scholtz, of Warsaw, well, and was on friendly terms with the gentlemen to whom I had letters of introduction. This Herr Scharff was wonderfully kind and obliging to Titus and myself. He took us all over Breslau, went with us to the suburbs of the town, wrote down our names as guests at the Ressource, and procured us visitorsʼ tickets for the concert yesterday, which he sent before the rehearsal. How astonished this friendly gentleman, and his companion who had obtained the tickets, must have been, when they beheld in one of the strangers the chief personage in the performance.
PLAYS AT A CONCERT. Besides playing the Rondo, I improvised, for the sake of the connoisseurs, on a theme from the “Mutes of Portice.” There was an overture, and some dancing to conclude with. Schnabel wanted to regale me with a sumptuous supper, but I only took a cup of broth.
Of course I have made the acquaintance of the chief organist in Breslau, Herr Köhler; he promised to show me his organ. I met, also, a certain Baron Nesse di Neisse, a great violin player and a pupil of Spohrʼs.
Another musician resident here, a Herr Hesse,[73] was also very complimentary to me; but none of the Germans, except Schnabel, whose face beams with real delight, and who claps me on the shoulder every moment, quite know what to make of me.
Titus took delight in watching what went on around. As I have not yet got a name, people could not make up their minds whether to praise or to blame me, and connoisseurs were not quite certain whether my music was really good, or only seemed so. A gentleman came up to me and praised the form, as something quite new. I donʼt know his name, but I think of all my listeners he understood me the best.
Schnabel placed a carriage at my disposal in the kindest manner; but when the dancing began, about ten, we went quietly home. I am truly glad that I was able to give pleasure to the dear old man.
After the concert, Schnabel introduced me to a lady who is considered the first pianist in Breslau. She thanked me very much for the “delightful surprise,” as she expressed it, but regretted, exceedingly, that I would not make up my mind to appear in public.
The Referendar consoled himself, and sang—though very indifferently—Figaroʼs air from the “Barbiere di Sevilla.”
A great deal was said about Elsner, yesterday, and his Echo Variations for the orchestra were much praised. I said that they could only judge what a composer Elsner was after hearing his Coronation Mass. We leave for Dresden to-morrow at two oʼclock. I kiss and embrace you. My kindest remembrances to Messrs. Eisner, Zywny, Matuszynski, Kolberg, Marylski, and Witwicki.
Your FREDERIC.
Dresden, November 14th, 1830.
I have scarcely found a moment yet to write you a few words. I have just come from a dinner at which the company were all Poles. I have crept away to write to you, for the post goes at seven, and I should much like to see the “Mutes of Portici,” at the Theatre.
We quitted Breslau unwillingly; the society of the gentlemen to whom Scholtz had given us letters of introduction made our sojourn in the capital of Silesia very agreeable.
ARRIVAL IN DRESDEN. My first visit in Dresden was to Fräulein Pechwell. She played, on Friday, at a Musical Soirée at Councillor Kressigʼs, and procured an entrée for me. The “Mutes” was to be performed the same evening at the theatre. The choice was difficult; but one must always be polite to ladies, so I decided for the Soirée. Another important reason with me was, that Signora Palazzesi,[74] the prima donna of the Italian opera, was expected to be there.
After making a very careful toilet, I had a Sedan chair fetched, got into the queer, comfortable box, and was carried to the house where the musical entertainment was to take place. The spirit of mischief seized me, and I felt a desire to stamp through the bottom of the chair; however, I forebore.
Arrived at Kressigʼs abode, I sent up my name to Fräulein Pechwell, whereupon the master of the house appeared, received me with many compliments, and led me into a room where a number of ladies were sitting at eight large tables. No flashing of diamonds met my gaze, but the more modest glitter of a host of steel knitting needles, which moved ceaselessly in the hands of these industrious ladies.
The number of ladies and of needles was so large that if the ladies had purposed an attack upon the gentlemen, the latter would have been in a sorry plight. The only resource left them would have been to have made weapons of their spectacles, of which there were as many as there were bald heads.
The clatter of knitting needles and tea cups was suddenly interrupted by music from the adjoining room. The overture to “Fra Diavolo” was played first; then Signora Palazzesi sang, in a magnificent voice, clear as a bell, and with plenty of bravura. I presented myself to the songstress, which gave me an opportunity of speaking also to the Musical Director, Rastrelli,[75] who had accompanied her. With true artistic politeness Rastrelli introduced me to Signor Rubini, who, with much affability, promised me a letter to his brother, the famous tenor. I do not need anything more for Milan. Yesterday, Rubini kindly took me to the Catholic Church, where a mass was being performed of Morlacchiʼs (bandmaster here.) This refined and agreeable man remembered me at once, and, giving me a place beside him, talked to me a long time. At these Vespers I heard the two celebrated Neapolitan soprani, Sassaroli and Tarquinio; the violin obligato was played by the bandmaster, the incomparable Rolla, to whom Soliva had given me a recommendation. Rolla received me very pleasantly, and said he would give me a letter to his father, the opera director in Milan.
After hearing Fräulein Pechwell play at the musical soirée, I quietly slipped away to the opera; but only arrived at the commencement of the fifth act, so refrain from any criticism. I shall hear it all this evening.
KIND RECEPTION FROM THE ARTISTS. As I was going at the Dresden visiting hour, to call on Klengel, I met him in front of his house. He knew me directly, and welcomed me with heart-felt politeness. I have a great respect for him. Klengel asked me where I lived, and begged me to come and see him early the next day, as he could not go back with me then. He advised me to play in public, but I told him, in as friendly a way as I could, that I should not be here long enough for that. I donʼt think Dresden would bring me either much fame, or much money, and I have no time to spare.
General Kniaziewicz, whom I saw at Frau Pruszakʼs, talked about a concert, but thought with me that I should make little by it.
Yesterday I heard “Tancred,” but could not, on the whole, praise the performance. Rollaʼs marvellous solo, and the song by Fräulein von Hähnel, of the Vienna Royal Opera Theatre, had to make up for the shortcomings of the rest. The King, with his court, were present; they were, the same morning, at the service in the church, where a mass, by Baron Miltitz, was performed, under the direction of Morlacchi. The voices of Messrs. Sassarole, Muschetti, Babnigg, and Zezi sounded magnificent. I cannot call the composition original, but well worked out; the royal chamber musicians, Dotzaceer and Rummer, celebrated violincellists, played their solos very finely.
I know none of the chief artists intimately, except dear Klengel, to whom I am sure to play to-morrow. I like to talk to Klengel, for one always learns something from him.
I saw the Green Arch when I was here before, and once is enough for me; but I have visited the Picture Gallery again with the greatest interest; if I lived here I should go every week; there are pictures in it, the sight of which makes me fancy I hear music. Good bye for to-day.
Your FREDERIC.
Prague, November 21st, 1830.
THE WEEK AT DRESDEN The week at Dresden slipped away so quickly that I hardly noticed how it went. I used to leave my hotel in the best of spirits in the morning, and did not return till night. When Klengel came to know me better as a musician, that is, when I had played my Concerto to him, he said that my playing strongly reminded him of Field, that my touch was quite unique, and that, although he had already heard much about me, he had not thought that I was such a virtuoso.
I saw—and why should I be ashamed of it?—with pleasure, that these were sincere compliments; and he gave me a practical proof of their being so, for scarcely had I left him when he went to Malacchi, and to Councillor von Lüttichau, who is director general of the Royal drama, to find out whether, if I stayed four days longer in Dresden, I could give a concert without any very burdensome preparations. Klengel assured me afterwards that he did not do this for me, but for Dresden, and that he should like to force me into giving a concert. He came to me the next morning and said, that he had taken all the necessary steps, but that there was no evening disengaged till next Sunday (this was Wednesday.) The first performance of “Fra Diavolo” was fixed for Friday, and Rossiniʼs “La Donna del Lago,” in Italian, for Saturday.
I gave Klengel a hearty welcome, for, indeed, I feel as if I had known him for years, and he seems to feel the same towards me; he asked for the score of my Concerto, and took me with him to the soirée at Frau Niesiolowskaʼs. I also called on Frau Szczerbinin, but I had stayed so long at Frau Niesiolowskaʼs that by the time I arrived the company had gone. I was, therefore, asked to dinner the next day. In the afternoon I went, by invitation, to see Countess Dobrzycka, who is head governess to Princess Augusta.
The countess was celebrating her birthday, and I had scarcely offered my congratulations, when two Saxon Princesses entered: Princess Augusta, only daughter of the late King Frederic Augustus, surnamed “the Just,” and Princess Maximilian, neé Princess of Lucca, daughter-in-law of the present King, a pleasant young lady.
LETTERS FOR ITALY. I played before these ladies, whereupon letters were promised me for Italy, which showed that my playing must have pleased them. Two letters were in fact sent to my hotel the next day; the Countess Dobrzycka will send the others after me to Vienna. I gave her my address there. The letters were addressed to the Queen of the Sicilies, at Naples, and Princess Ellasino, at Rome. Letters of recommendation were also promised me to the reigning Duchess of Lucca, and the Viceroy of Milan, which I was to receive through the kind care of Kraszewski.
Klengel has just given me a letter to Vienna, where he thinks of going himself bye and bye. At Frau Niesiolowskaʼs he drank my health in champagne. The lady of the house teased me a good deal, and insisted on always calling me “Szopski.”
Rolla is a first-rate violinist, as anyone who knows anything about violin playing must admit.
Goodbye till you hear from Vienna, which we hope to reach by nine on Thursday morning.
I pleased General Kniaziewicz very much; he told me that no other pianist had made such an agreeable impression on him; I tell you this because I know you will like to hear it.
Your FREDERIC.
Vienna, December 1st, 1830.
I was greatly delighted with your letter, my dearests, the first I have received for a month, that is since I parted from you. My appetite increased a hundred per cent. at once.
“The Wild Man”—as the capital Restaurant where I dine is called—charged a gulden and some kreuzers for an excellently prepared fritter; what more would you wish?
Titus was full of joy too, for he received letters from his family. I thank Celinski for the accompanying note; it vividly recalled the time when I was still among you; it seemed to me as if I were sitting at the piano, and Celinski standing opposite to me, looking at M. Zwyny, who had just offered Linowski a pinch of snuff. Only Materszynski was wanting to complete the group. Has he recovered from the fever yet?
I must say that there are many charming girls in Vienna.
Haslinger received me very kindly, although he would print neither the Sonata, nor the second Variations, but he shall repent this.
I learned, also, from Haslinger that Fräulein Blahetka is in Stuttgart with her parents, and that, perhaps, she will not come back at all this winter.
PLEASANT LODGINGS IN VIENNA. I have taken lodgings with Titus in one of the principal streets, close to the vegetable market. For three elegant rooms on the third floor, we pay fifty gulden a month, which is considered cheap here. An English Admiral is occupying them at present, but he leaves to-day. Admiral! And I am admired.[76] So the house is a desirable one, especially as the mistress, a handsome, widowed baroness, still young, has been—as she says—for some time in Poland, and heard of me in Warsaw. She knew the family Skarzynski had moved in good society, and asked Titus if he did not know a beautiful young lady of the name of Rembielinska.
The presence of this charming and intelligent lady makes the apartments all the more agreeable, for she likes Poles, and being a Prussian she regards the Austrians with no great favour.
As soon as we go in Graff, the pianoforte-maker, will send us an instrument. When I went to see my friend Würfel, he began to talk immediately about arrangements for a concert. He is a remarkable man; although too ill to go out he gives lessons at his house. He spits blood, which has weakened him very much, and yet he talks of a concert. The poor sufferer told me that the newspapers here wrote enthusiastically about my F minor Concerto, which I had not the remotest expectation of. So I shall give a concert, but when, where, how and what, I do not in the least know.
The change of air has given me a swollen nose, which hindered me from presenting myself at the Prussian Ambassadorʼs hotel, or at Countess Rzeiouskaʼs, the rendezvous of all the “haute voleé.” This lady lives next to Hussarzewskiʼs, where, in spite of my nose, I have already been two or three times. He is of the same opinion as Würfel, who advised me to play without honorarium. Dr. Malfatti[77] welcomed me as warmly as if I had been a relation. When he read my name on my visiting card, he hastened to me, embraced me, and said, that Herr Wladislaw Ostrowski had written to him about me, and that if he could be of any service he was ready to do anything for me. He said, besides, that he would present me to Madame Tatzszczew, the Russian Ambassadorʼs wife, and would manage the necessary introductions; the Court was unfortunately in mourning for the King of Naples, but he would do what was possible. He also promised to introduce me to Baron Dunoi, director of the Musical Society here, who would probably be most useful to me.
Elsnerʼs letter of recommendation to Herr Mittag procured me another equally agreeable acquaintance, who took a lively interest in me, and seems to be a person of influence.
I have been to see Czerny, who was as polite as ever, and asked, “Have you been studying diligently?” He has arranged another Overture for eight pianos and sixteen players, and seems very happy about it.
Except Czerny, I have seen none of the pianists this time. I have been twice to Frau Weyberheim, Frau Wolfʼs sister. I am invited to the soirée there to-morrow, “en petit cercle des amateurs.” I shall pay a visit afterwards to Countess Rosalie Rzewuska, who receives between nine and ten. Hussarzewski has informed her that I am coming; I shall meet the celebrated Frau Cibini,[78] for whom Moscheles wrote a duet sonata.
Yesterday I went with my letters to Stametzʼs counting-house, and was received just as if I had come for money. He handed me a paper, which notified that I was to go to the police with my card of permission to stay, and—basta. But perhaps it will be different bye and bye.
ADVISED NOT TO GIVE A CONCERT. I was also at Banker Geymüllerʼs yesterday, where Titus has to receive his 6,000 Polish gulden. When he had read my name Herr Geymüller, without taking any further notice of the letter, said, it was very agreeable to him to become acquainted with an artist of such distinction as myself; but he could not advise me to give a concert here, as there were very many good pianists in the city, and a great reputation was requisite to make money. Finally, he remarked, “I cannot help you in any way, the times are too bad.”
I listened with big eyes to this edifying discourse, and when it was over I replied, that I was not at all sure whether it would pay to make a public appearance, for I had not yet called upon any influential people, not even on the Russian Ambassador, to whom I had a letter from the Grand Prince Constantine.
At that, Herr Geymüller suddenly changed his tactics; but I took my leave, regretting that I had robbed him of his precious time, and thought to myself, “Wait you ... Jew.”
I have not been to the bandmaster, Lachner, yet, as I have not room enough to receive return visits.
We went from the “City of London,” where we had a long bill to pay, to the “Golden Lamb,” in Leopold Street, where we are still, hoping that the Englishman will quit the Baronessʼs rooms to-day. “As soon as we are in our own house,” says Titus, who always tries to make me assume the position of the haughty patron, “we will introduce an aristocratic ton. Then,” he continued, “we will receive, have music, and arrange for concerts—but not gratuitous ones.”
I have not yet visited Madame Raayek, Frau von Elkau, Rothschild, the Vogts, and various other interesting people. To-day I am going to the Embassy, where I hope to see Baron Meindorf, whom I shall ask for first, on Hussarzewskiʼs advice, for Baron Meindorf will tell me when I can best present myself to Herr Tatyszezew.
OPERA IN VIENNA. I have not touched the money which I had from the banker the day before yesterday. I mean to be very careful of it. I am sorry, my dear parents, but I must ask you to send me something more at the end of the month for the journey to Italy, in case my concerts turn out badly. The theatre is my heaviest expense; but this I regret the less as Fräulein Heinefetter[79] and Herr Wildt[80] sing nearly every evening, and are excellent beyond all description. This week I have heard three entirely new operas: “Fra Diavolo” yesterday, three days ago “Titus,” and to-day “William Tell.” I certainly prefer “The Mutes of Portici” to “Fra Diavolo.”
I do not envy Orlowski[81] because he accompanies Lafont. Will the time come when Lafont shall accompany me? Does the question seem presumptuous? But if God wills it may come to pass.
Nidecki thinks of staying here the whole winter. All this week I have done nothing but take care of my nose, go to the opera and to Graffʼs. I play every afternoon to get my stiff fingers into working order. I do not know how this week has flown. I have, as yet, taken no definite steps towards a concert. A propos of that, do you advise me to play the F minor or E minor concerto? Würfel thinks my F minor concerto more beautiful than Hummelʼs in A flat major, which has just been published by Haslinger. Herr Haslinger is shrewd, trying in a cautious, subtle way, to induce me to let him have my compositions gratis. Klengel was surprised that he gave me nothing for the variations. Perhaps Haslinger thinks that if he treats my works as bagatelles, I shall be only too glad to get them printed; but the time for gratuitous work is over with me; now it is, pay bestie.
Graff advised me to choose the States Deputies Hall, where the “Spirituel” concerts are given, as the nicest and best place for my concert. But I must first obtain the permission of Count Dietrichstein, which, indeed, will not be difficult through Malfatti.
I am as strong as a lion, and they say I am stouter. Altogether I am doing well, and I hope, through God, who sent Malfatti to be a help to me—oh, splendid Malfatti—that I shall do still better.
